


Stardust on the Water

by that_sarcastic_insomniac



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adventure, Angst, BAMF, BAMF Reader, F/M, Human Bill Cipher, Kidnapping, Kinda, Like he's human, NSFW, Reader-Insert, Sarcasm, Slow Burn, but has some types of powers, it's complicated - Freeform, possibel mentions of abuse, treasure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:09:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10298240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_sarcastic_insomniac/pseuds/that_sarcastic_insomniac
Summary: No one thought time travel was real. It was all just stupid science fiction made for the general masses, right? Well, unfortunately for our protagonist, it is very real. She is accidentally transported back to the year 1690, where pirates roam free. Will she be able to bullshit her way out of this one? Or will she be stuck in the past forever, tearing a hole in the fabric of time? She is in for a rough trip...she'll need to develop her sea legs, and fast.





	1. Time Warped

**Author's Note:**

> There are little to no pirate au fanfictions in this damn fandom and I'm fixing it. This can be read as a reader insert, however the protagonist does have a set name. Just imagine it's your name instead! Comments are greatly appreciated!

Time had always perplexed Isabella. She could sit for hours and ponder it's limits. Was it real, or just a construct that humans created to help them understand how life went on? The answer was unclear, and could be debated for millennia, some clinging to it's comforting lie, others abandoning what they saw as delusive false information. She was unsettled in her own opinions, weighing each sides' advantages and disadvantages. On one hand, time was a way to cope with the infinity that is the universe around us. But on the other, maybe abandoning the restrictions of time could give us access to unprecedented amounts of knowledge. 

But alas, she did not have the time, nor the energy to ponder life's questions today. She was stuck in period 9 advanced calculus, her least favorite place in all of existence. At least they were doing trigonometry, and not that exponential function bullshit that made her head spin off of her shoulders. Her pencil spun in her fingers mindlessly, as the teacher droned on about graphing trigonometric curves. Her mind was somewhere else, it always was. Currently, she was wondering what life would be like in 15th century France if Joan of Arc hadn't been killed. These kinds of thoughts always invaded her mind, questions of what if's and how about's. The bell had come to her rescue as it tolled, a sweet sound to her ears. She swept her books into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder, her muscles screaming as she did. The students buzzed happily as it was Friday, and they were off the hook for the weekend. She violently opened her locker, almost smacking her locker neighbor in the face. 

"Izzy!" 

A voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she turned her head to meet it. A smile crept to her face as her favorite twins strolled into view. 

"What's up hoes?" She joked facetiously embracing Mabel with a smile. They had repeatedly asked her why she called them hoes. 'Force of habit' she would say. 

"Nothing much, Mr. Lenley is slowly boring me to death." Dipper replied as he gave Isabella a high-five. 

"You took AP psych? That's a senior class. Aren't they intimidating?" Mabel pointed out. Isabella kept having to remind herself that they were only juniors, and that she was older than them. They seemed older somehow. She took offense to the comment against seniors. 

"Hey, not all of us are stuck up douchebags. He's smart. It'll look good on your high school transcript, that's for sure. But yeah. I remember taking that class in Junior year. That was the reason I had that godforsaken meltdown last year-"

"Oh, was that when you died your hair blue!" Dipper interjected.

"-Yeah...let's not talk about that. But, my point is, that Mr. Lenley is as exciting as the worlds biggest museum on the hisory of paper." She quipped, slamming her locker shut. 

"We still on for tonight?" She questioned excitedly. They'd decided on Monday that they just needed to chill out for a little while. It'd been a long time since they were all able to hang out. Between Isabella's college visits, Dipper's insane honors classes, and all of Mabel's club projects, they barely had time to just be teenagers. 

"Hell yeah. You mind giving us a ride?" Mabel asked, hanging on her friend's arm. 

"Of course...is that all I am to you? Rides and booze?!" She sarcastically cried out, laughing as she did. The walk to her car consisted of her reassuring Dipper that his notes for AP psych were sufficient and her telling Mabel that being a senior wasn't all it's cracked up to be. Her black 67 impala beeped unceremoniously as she unlocked the doors. 

"So what's on the agenda for tonight? Movies? Exploring? you name it, I'm down for anything." She said enthusiastically as she pulled out of the school parking lot and onto the main road.

"Actually, my uncle and I have been working on this big machine for the past couple of months and he said if you guys wanted to see it you could." Dipper chimed in, looking up from his phone. 

"Dipper, you're such a nerd." Mabel sighed as she picked at her cuticle. He pouted.

"Dude, as much as I'd like to see this strange new machine, you sure your uncle's cool with it?" Isabella asked defensively. She had a gut feeling that Dipper was lying to impress her - he always did.

"Yeah of course!" He dropped the subject after that, instead changing the topic to the twins' upcoming SAT's. By the time they pulled up to the rustic old shack in the middle of the woods, Isabella had reassured the twins multiple times that the standardized test wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"It's a number on a piece of paper. It's a real easy test to bullshit if you ask me." Isabella joked as she fell onto Dipper's bed. The twins shared a room, and she would usually get the air mattress from the basement. She'd do that later, right now she was tired.

"So are you going to go take us to see your nerd machine or what?" she teased as she set down her bag. It was almost audible when Dipper rolled his eyes. 

"Yes, get up lazy bones."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel had decided to stay upstairs and finish a poster project for student environment club, but assured the duo that she'd join them soon.

Isabella had never seen something more spectacular in her life. Said machine was stored in a separate basement underneath the house that she had no idea even existed. This machine was about a foot taller than her and resembled something of a very large, round mirror. 

"What the fuck?" Was her first coherent sentence. But not in a bad way, in a curious way. She was amazed, and didn't know what the fuck was happening, but she loved it.

"It's the prototype of a time machine Ford and I built." He said proudly. Isabella's eyes widened at that.

"A time machine? Is it functional?" She questioned as she took a tentative step towards the giant machine. 

"As far as I know, no...well not yet anyway." Dipper replied morosely. 

"Oh don't be so sad about it. You'll get it to work eventually." Isabella encouraged the young inventor. The time machine itself was strangely beautiful. As her hand touched the glass like object, a tingle went up her spine. 

"What's this made of?"

"It's a normal mirror created with mercury and gallium, it helps to conduct the electrical impulses from the generator, to the platform." He said absent-mindedly, flipping through his journal. His psych journal. 

"Oh my god Dipper you've got to give it a re-" Isabella was abruptly cut off as she felt her hand phase through the glass like material. She landed on the floor with a thud. Panic quickly set in as she took in her surroundings. She was in a small, 4 by 4 room, all made of the same material as the mirror. She bounded towards the mirror, hoping it would let her phase through. As her hand made contact, she screamed. The glass was now boiling hot. Dipper had just noticed her predicament, panic and dread flashed in his eyes. 

"Don't worry! I'll get Ford!" and with that, he was gone. Now, that would've been fine has the machine not began to whirr to life. Bells started ringing and electricity popped in the wires. It was an odd sensation. It didn't hurt, but it was definitely not a pleasant feeling. It felt as though she was being pulled in two separate directions. Despite the severity of the situation, the small part of her brain responsible for making fun of her poor decisions, began to sing 'Time Warp' from The Rocky Horror Picture Show' because of course. 

But then the whirring stopped, and as soon as it did, Isabella fell to the ground, unconscious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is very startling when you wake up somewhere different than where you went to bed, but it is especially jarring when you have absolutely no idea where you are. Isabella's limbs felt as if the were made of lead, and her head was no better. It pounded rhythmically against her skull. She stood shakily, leaning on the wall behind her. Looking around, her eyes widened. She was so fucked.


	2. Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum

Unfamiliarity with one's surroundings is normally not a threatening feeling. You're usually with your family on vacation in some European country that you've never been to before, using a guide map to help you navigate the twists and turns of the local farmer's market. It's a completely different story when you have no idea where you are, and no map to guide you. 

Isabella slumped against a cobblestone wall in the alley she found herself in. Her head was spinning and she could barely stand on her own two feet. The air was crisp, and rain misted down from the sky. There was a looming feeling of dread, which perfectly matched the way Isabella was feeling. Hazel eyes darted around, observing anything she could and trying to make a sound analysis of where, or when, she was. Aside from a few odd stares, she went mostly unnoticed. A buzzing in her pocket brought her out of her daze, and cold fingers touched metal. It was her phone. And it was somehow...ringing?

"Hello?"

"Isabella! Are you ok?" She could hear Dipper's frantic voice on the other end.

"Dipper! Yeah, I'm currently fine, but I have absolutely no idea where I am. I was hoping you could tell me?" 

"Ok, just don't freak out...You're somewhere in England in the year 1690." He said it extremely quickly, as if that would soften the blow. 

"Are you kidding me?!" She all but screamed. Not only was he in a different country and a different time, but over 300 years ago?!

"I know it seems bad, but Ford and I are doing everything we can to try and bring you home. Just don't draw attention to yourself."

"Gee that'll be easy." She quipped, sarcastically. 

"And how in the fuck is my cell-phone working? Cell towers certainly didn't exist back then...now I mean." She rubbed her head as she spoke, trying to alleviate the stress migraine that was coming on. 

"I...have no idea. But let's not look a gift horse in the mouth ok? Listen, I have to go for now. Don't do anything reckless ok? And stay safe." He begged.

"Yeah yeah, I'm not an idiot." She groaned and ended the call. 

So. She was stuck in 17th century England. Great. Just great. Slipping her phone back into her pocket, she began to journey out of the alley. The rain had stopped and it looked like the sun was trying to shine through the clouds. Before she stepped out into the open, she pulled her hood over her head in an attempt to hide herself. The street was abuzz with talking, idle chatter reaching Isabella's ears. She stood, amazed at the marketplace before her. It was oddly beautiful. 

Eyes caught sight of a produce stand, filled with fresh fruit. Hr stomach growled in response. With no money, no alibi and no identity, she pondered her options. She could either steal an apple or two to keep her fed and risk being caught by the authorities. Or, she could be a good person and starve. 

Yeah she wasn't that desperate to maintain a 'good-girl' image at the time. With little to no planning, she strode up to the stand, sticking to the curbs of the street. She watched, and stood still for a solid minute. When the person manning the stand turned to help a customer, she reached out and grabbed an apple from the bunch. She'd have probably gotten away with it to, if it'd not been for the fact that when she plucked said apple from the stand, a whole slew of apples fell to the ground in her wake. 

"Hey, stop!" the man yelled. She had no time to stop. Running had not always been her specialty, but it was now. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, faster than she ever thought she could run. Multiple pairs of footsteps were following her now, which could only mean the local authorities were alerted. 

She darted down a street, and then another, storming passed confused villagers. She didn't stop until she could no longer hear any footsteps behind her. Her chest burned, and she collapsed against a wall, her lungs screaming for air. Five minutes in 17th century England and she was already a criminal. Chuckling to herself, she caught her breath. 

However, her peace was short lived, as she heard the footsteps approaching. She pushed herself from the wall with a groan, and tried to find somewhere to hide, because she just couldn't run anymore. Her legs moved as fast as she could will them too. She finally took in her surroundings as she stopped. She was by the ocean, ships upon ships lined the docks, ranging in size. She smiled, she'd always loved the ocean, she felt at home almost. After a while of walking without any disturbances, she headed to the docks and was sure she was safe. Her attention was pulled away from the ships as she bumped into a person. 

"Oh, pardon me." She spoke gently. A young man no older than 15 looked at her, fear and anxiety in his features. 

"S-sorry ma'am." He stuttered. Isabella knew the face of someone suffering from anxiety. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"Are you ok? You don't seem well. Is everything alright?" She asked softly. He seemed to break down at her words. 

"N-no...the people who k-killed my parents are f-forcing me t-to work for them...b-because I have inform-mation they want. M-my dad was a n-naval officer." his voice cracked. 

"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry, I-" but she couldn't finish. His eyes looked over her shoulder and widened. 

"It's them." He whispered. 

"What, who?" She asked. 

"Pirates!" He screamed. She whipped her head around and saw two burly men storming towards the pair. 

"Listen to me. Get out of here, find the police and don't look back." She urged. 

"But-" 

"Just go!" she pushed him towards the direction of town. She turned to face the pirates, who were sneering at her. 

"She gave us away, the little whore." One of them growled. This pissed her off to no end. 

"Who're you calling whore?!" She spat at the pirates and turned to run away from the situation that had the potential to kill her. She could hear the pirates following her and she picked up the pace, taking wild turns throughout the alleyways of the town. Her lungs screamed at her to stop, but she knew she couldn't. 

A group of crates caught her eye, and she said a silent thank you to God. The lid of one crate slid open easily and she jumped inside, securing the cover. She tried to calm her breathing, in fear that she would be too loud. Voices could be heard getting closer and closer to her hiding place. She could feel herself shaking. Accented voices seemed to be right outside the wooden confines of her box, but eventually faded into the background. The sigh of relief that followed seemed to be as loud as a siren. Sweat poured from her forehead, her fear mingling with the heat from being in a closed space. 

She could hear footsteps coming back towards her hiding spot, and garbled voices talking to one another. Due to the fact that there was a six inch piece of wood separating her from the conversation that was going on, she couldn't make out anything that was being said. She strained her ears, attempting to make out anything that could be of use to her, 

However, she didn't have much time to think, as she was abruptly lifted into the air. Her box was roughly lifted from the ground, and began to get carried away to an unknown location. 

Afraid could not begin to describe how she was feeling. The possibilities of where she would end up were endless, and that thought was terrifying. She began to hear waves crashing against a dock, getting progressively louder. This did nothing to quell her terror. 

At least 10 minutes later, her box was set on the floor with a thud. Footsteps faded away, along with the slamming of a door.  
Cautious hands removed the lid, trembling a bit. Peeking out of her safe-haven, a very soft gasp escaped her lips. She was in what looked to be a supply room, filled to the brim with boxes and crates of supplies. Standing to her full height, she stepped out of the box, only to fall as the room lurched to the left. 

"What the fuck?" she whispered to herself. Rooms don't move. Unless...

Oh shit. As quick as physics allowed her, she darted towards the single window in the room...which was round. A porthole. What she saw nearly stopped her heart. The town was getting farther and farther away, water coming into view. The ship lurched again, sending her flying into a wall. 

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck that definitely made noise." she chanted to herself. 

There were two things she knew for sure. 

1\. She was on some kind of boat

2\. She was fucked

After some brief deliberation, she decided not to stay in the room she was currently in, because whoever was on board was bound to come back to this room. The door creaked slightly as she pushed it open, only causing her heart to beat just a bit faster. Her movements were quick and calculated, as she darted through the halls. If at any point she heard talking, she would backtrack and find a hiding spot. 

"Did ye hear tha' noise a few minutes ago?" A gruff voice questioned. 

"Aye, tha' I did. Cap'n thinks it be a stow-away." Another equally gruff voice answered. 

"'Ow do he know?"

"He just does. Don't question the Cap'n, or it may be the end of ye." The second man joked.

Captain? Weird lingo? As the cogs turned in her brain, she felt a wave of dread wash over her. 

She was on a pirate ship. Her heart, that had been going quite fast before, only picked up the pace. Her breathing came in ragged spurts, a mix of wheezing and coughing. 

And just to be the icing on the bitter cake, her phone went off. I Love Rock And Roll by Joan Jett is usually a happy song, that brings happy memories to mind. But right now, it's like ringing the dinner bell for a cage of hungry dogs. 

"Wha' the hell was tha'?!" One of the buffoons yelled. 

Well. When trouble strikes, run in the opposite direction. The lengths of hallways now seemed like a maze, where the way out meant death, as well as the way back. Lose lose situation kind of thing. But this was no time to be afraid, as adrenaline began to shoot through her veins. She ran as quickly as she could down the never ending stretches of hallway, spotting a set of stairs covered in natural light. She could only assume they lead to the main deck. Without a thought, her legs began carrying her up the stairs and put into the sun. 

The sight she was met with made her want to crawl back into the maze of hallways and never come out. 15-20 men stood on the deck, some simply doing what seemed to be daily chores, others just milling about. Until on man looked up and nearly fell off the stool he was seated on. 

"Oi!" He sputtered out. pointing a bony finger at Isabella. The general population of the boat looked up from their work, and gawked at the sight before them. A woman of the likes they'd never seen before. The men blinked, and she blinked back.

"Wha' migh' she be?"

"A siren?"

"No you idiot, do she look part fish te you?"

"Not all siren's 'ave tails!" 

"Could she be the stow away Cap'n was talking about?"

"Maybe, I saw 'er in the marketplace, stealing from the stands."

"Ain't she the one who ratted us out?"

"Aye, it was 'er." 

Animosity grew with every comment, eyes turning malicious and dark. The pirates began to close in on Isabella, pulling weapons from out of thin air. 

"Well would you look at the time! It looks like I must be going now." she took a few steps backward, trying to find some escape route off of this floating hell. 

"Leaving so soon lass? Say awhile." One of the men sneered. She would've gagged under normal circumstances, but her brain was too occupied forming a plan. 

"Nope, in fact, I think I'll be leaving now!" She said with a grin, before turning and running towards the main mast of the ship, the crows nest being her objective. The men pursued her, a hoard of wild beasts running after it's prey. 

Thankfully, she could climb pretty damn well. Her hands and feet moved faster than they ever have as she climbed the ladder. A hand encircled her foot as she climbed. 

"Got ye lass!" A Brown haired male with a Scottish accent grunted.

"Like hell!" She shouted, kicking the man square in the nose. He let go of the ladder to cradle his broken nose, and fell, taking several others down with him. She reached the crow's nest quickly and realized she didn't have anywhere to go.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of golden eyes carefully watched her, analyzing the situation with great intensity. 

The only other option she had was to go the cliche route and swing from a rope. The doubts she had about this actually working were abundant in her mind, but it was her only chance. She climbed onto the banister surrounding the crow's nest and jumped for the nearest rope. The entirety of the boat gasped in fear, awe, and amazement, holding a breath until she safely grabbed onto the rope. Swinging through the air, was much harder than it looked in the movies, although, she did feel pretty badass, the pirates of the Caribbean theme playing in her head. She swung around the ship, spotting a landing that was coming up on her left. A little more gracefully than the thought she could, she dismounted the ope in a flip and landed safely on the landing. Thank you 10 years of gymnastics! The men were aghast, jaws to the floor. Isabella couldn't help but grin and bow towards the crowd of surprised men. 

However this smugness was short lived as she felt the ground give way beneath her. Unfortunately, the landing she chose was not built to hold the weight of one person. Tumbling down, and feeling blood pool down her arms, she silently prayed a collective prayer to any and all higher beings who may exist. She expected to hit the floor, and break a bone or two, at least sprain an ankle, but the impact never came. Instead, she found she was in the arms of the brown-haired scotsmen she kicked in the face. However, the situation could be worse, as he seemed to be the least seedy and disgusting person on the ship. 

"Got ye lass!" He exclaimed as he set Isabella down, keeping a firm grip on your shoulder and arm, to keep you in place.

"Cap'n's not gonna like this."

"You're in trouble little missy."

"Big trouble." 

The threats of the sailors did little to scare her. Frankly, sh'ed been through worse. You try growing up in the Bronx, and walking to school in 2nd grade. 

However, her inner thoughts were interrupted by the clicking of boots. Any and all voices immediately hushed, and heads bowed. She could only assume that the "Cap'n" had decided to grace her with his presence. 

"Oh joy...." She muttered under her breath. An old 50 something year old man, with yellow teeth and a crooked smile, come to tell her she was going to die. What a way to go.

Sadly. she couldn't be more off the mark. A young man began to stride towards her as if he owned the place, which he technically did. He wore a long, thick red coat, with black trousers and boots. His hat was small, but suited him, a small raven's feather peeking out. His eyes, one was covered in a black eyepatch bedazzled with topaz crystals, and the other seemed to be a topaz itself, a rich golden iris reflecting the sunlight. His hair was blond, and his features were sharp. He wore an authoritative vibe, a smug grin plastered on his face. He was at least half a head taller than her, which caused her to narrow her eyes. She was the tallest person in her school, and still people manage to be taller than her. He walked towards her, stopping about a foot away. Their eyes connected, each person daring the other to look away first. 

"And who might this be, Thomas?" He asked the Scottish man, who's name she now knew as Thomas. 

"The stow away Cap'n. She ran out from the supply rooms. She was the one who ratted us out. I saw 'er with me own eyes." Thomas explained. 

"A stow away, is it? I knew my hunch was correct." He chuckled as he spoke. His voice sounded...different. Slightly grating, but still deep and velvety, a contradiction. She continued to narrow her eyes to slit as she spoke, immediately not liking the man. 

"So men, a rat has found it's way on board." His voice bellowed as he turned towards his crew. A chorus of boos and jeers echoed soon after. 

"And what do we do with rats? We dispose of them...even the pretty ones." Nope, she was right. Young and sort of handsome, still disgusting. 

"What are you going to do?" She spoke indignantly. Everyone turned to look at her, shocked she was speaking to the captain in such a way. Even he was surprised, she smirked and continued.

"Make me walk the plank? Keelhaul me? Throw me in the brig? How cliche." She said with a mock yawn, her eyes daring him to do something. He was taken aback by this. 

"Well, it seems the rat has claws." He joked as he moved a hand to touch her face. However, when he saw a pair of human jaws snap at said hand, he quickly drew it back. 

"And teeth." she challenged. He was getting angry now, she could see it in his visible eye, as it narrowed. He turned his attention to Thomas once more. 

"Lock her in my quarters. I'll deal with this later." he spoke through gritted teeth, striding away. Isabella couldn't help but laugh at the whole ordeal, as she was escorted back into the maze of hallways and corridors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter yall, sorry! Also excuse any spelling or grammar errors, I wrote this at 11:30 and want to die. Thanks for reading!


	3. "Do you get off on intimidation?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH I FINALLY GOT THIS GODDAMN CHAPTER OUT   
> translations: 
> 
> Bien que, je suppose que vous n'êtes pas familiers avec les filles d'être éduqués dans ces aspects, mais là encore, la plupart des hommes comme vous sont les porcs sexistes. Vous êtes tous des lâches et des imbéciles pour moi: 
> 
> Although, I suppose that you are not familiar with the girls to be educated in these aspects, but again, most of the men as you are the sexist pigs. You are all cowards and fools for me

When a wild animal is caged, it's first instinct is to get away and escape. Human instinct is no different. The desire to be free, and not controlled. Too bad Isabella was in the exact opposite situation. 

She paced around the captain's study, from the queen sized bed with golden silk sheets, to the mahogany desk stocked to the brim with maps, books and hidden treasures. There's no possible way this was happening right? But oh of course it was, because that was just her luck. She paused to look around the room. It was mostly neat and well kept, organized chaos. Ornate daggers, with gem encrusted handles, telescopes with gold trimmings, leather-bound books with yellowed pages. Had she not been a hostage in the situation, she would have taken more time to marvel at the sight before her. The wood creaked slightly under her feet as she walked around the room, to stand before the oversized desk. 

 

From first glance, it seemed as if papers were strewed about in a random matter. But as she continued to stare at them, she found a pattern emerging, a map of sorts. How typical, she thought. Pirates searching for treasure. Her hands grazed over the documents, staring at the world map. It was horribly inaccurate, especially in regards to The United States, and the Caribbean. As it would bother her to no end, she took it upon herself to fix it. A quill and ink sat in the right corner of the desk, which she carefully picked up. Her A+ in geography was finally being put to good use. She sat down in the ridiculously oversized chair, the cushion seemingly pulling out all of the aches from her body. The quill glided across the paper as she sketched islands such as Cuba, and Puerto Rico, as well as the Bahamas. For a pirate, he wasn't very good at charting where he's been. 

She stood from the desk, placing the quill back in it's proper place. The waves echoed throughout the room, the sun that glinted off the waves shone through into the room, casting a warm glow across it. A shaky hand raked through her hair, a coping mechanism she had developed long ago. A glint of gold caught her eye from the other side of the room. A necklace hanging from a post. Tentative steps were taken towards the gleam. Fingers became delicate as they fingered the rubies strung together by golden chains. The rosary swayed in her hands from the rocking of the ship. It was one of the most beautiful things she's ever seen. 

"What use does a pirate have for a rosary?" her incriminating voice rung throughout the room.

"What use does a girl have for snooping?"

She jumped about a foot in the air at the voice, turning as she did so. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. The very being of him irked her to her very core. The look of shock on her face quickly morphed into one of disdain. 

"Didn't strike me as the religious type." She gestured to the necklace in her hands. He laughed, a deep, throaty sound. 

"You didn't strike me as the intrusive type." He quipped. That brought an eye roll to her face. 

"I guess we're just full of surprises, now aren't we?" She said sarcastically, the necklace slipping from her hands to hang back on the post. Her eyes would not leave his, daring him to look away. He pushed himself off of the door way and began to make his way towards her. She stood her ground, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. He stood directly in front of her, in an attempt to intimidate her. It didn't work. She took a step back.

"First of all, personal space much, second of all, why I am I still on this floating hell?" She questioned. His eyebrow shot up in shock.

"Never in all my life have I met a woman with such ferocity in her voice." He laughed. A sigh escaped her lips.

"Yeah, well I'm not like most women from here. Just answer the question."

"Well, you are a stow away dear, you can imagine my concern as the captain of this ship. And well, you did give blow our cover. You honestly thought I would let you go?" He stated matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"Well I don't want to be on this goddamn ship anyway! I was accidentally brought onto the ship because I was hiding in a crate, so not a stow away. So don't flatter yourself." She fumed, as she stalked away from the cocky asshole in front of her. 

"You are just full of surprises." The very sentence made her gag. 

"So can you let me go now or what?" She questioned. He only smirked.

"No, I don't think so. I still have to figure out a punishment that befits you."

"Wait wait wait, back the fuck up, punishment?" She questioned in shock, backing up even further. He laughed, it was beginning to get on her nerves how cocky this man was. 

"Yes, after all you were the one who gave us away, cheating us out of very valuable information." He leaned down so that he was eye level with her, his hand moving up to trace her jaw, she moved to get away from him but found herself up against the wall. The whole situation brought a laugh out of her. The captain was taken aback by this.

"Y-you should know...I wasn't the one who gave you away." She managed to speak between chortles. 

"Than who was?"

"That boy I was with, the one who was being threatened...by...pirates..." she spoke slower as she connected the dots.

"He was going to work for you wasn't he? After you murdered his parents!" She took steps towards him, jabbing an accusing finger into his sternum. He backed up a few steps, surprised at how forward this girl was. She turned away to lean on the wall to the left of her, trying to get as far away from this man as possible

"God! What is wrong with people?" she whispered to herself. The captain could only stare at her. He had no idea how to handle someone like this, let alone a girl. 

"Business is business." Was all he could say. This elicited a sigh from her lips. 

"So you're keeping me here?" She asked tentatively. He only smiled, a sickeningly malicious grin.

"Oh don't sound so sad about it...I'm sure you'll...enjoy your stay on my vessel." His voice was sickeningly sweet, and thick as honey. She shuddered at his implications. He stalked towards her once again.

'This girl doesn't know what she's messing with' he thought. 

'This guy has no idea what he's messing with' she thought. The next thing she said had been on her mind during the entire encounter.

"Do you get off on intimidation or something?" She asked indignantly. His eyebrow shot up at that, and he struggled to find words for a moment. 

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He was shocked, completely and utterly shocked.

"No, however I do enjoy seeing others squirm under my grip."

"So yeah, you do..." she laughed. And surprisingly, he laughed too. However the jovial mood was short lived as he began to circle her. She stepped away from him, matching her movements with his. He took note, and smirked. 

"What were you a vulture in a past life?" She quipped. He laughed again, she had a feeling he was laughing to make her uneasy, or to make her feel small. They continued as such, one circling the other, seemingly manipulating their movements. He seemed to be mulling something over in his head, thinking.

"A danse macabre." he muttered.

"A dance of death? What do you plan on killing me, monsieur?" she retorted. The look of shock on his face was priceless. 

"Y-you know french?" 

"Yeah, I studied it, a while back. Bien que, je suppose que vous n'êtes pas familiers avec les filles d'être éduqués dans ces aspects, mais là encore, la plupart des hommes comme vous sont les porcs sexistes. Vous êtes tous des lâches et des imbéciles pour moi." She spoke, recalling her many years of french class in school. He could not begin to comprehend that she was as fluent as he was in french. 

"Funny." He said humorlessly. She only laughed. He didn't know why, but this annoyed him. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn't scared of him, which was an oddity. 

"You probably think you're so powerful, with you're fancy little pirate ship, and you're cocky little grin. I bet you're all talk and no bite." 

That just about did it. Eyes narrowed and darkened as he began to stalk towards her. Breath caught in the girl's throat and she backed up a single step, letting her emotions get the best of her, slipping for just a moment. Once she regained her composure, he was already pinning her against the wall. 

"You think you're so clever, but on this ship you're nothing. You're less than nothing." He gripped her right arm, as tight as a vice. Her face contorted in anger, and she attempted to wriggle out of his grip, but to no avail. He only tightened his hand around her bicep.

"You will be treated as what you are, a prisoner, until I find use for you." He snarled, pulling her along as he exited his cabin, leading her to the bowels of the ship. The lighting in the hallways dimmed intensely as she was dragged, insinuating that wherever she was going was a very dark place. A large wrought iron door stood in their path. The captain pushed it open before storming into the room. It was dark and damp, and reeked of death. A narrow hallway with large cell doors.

The brig. 

Before she could even process that fact, she was tossed as if she weighed nothing, into one of the cells. The door clanged shut behind her, hands gripping the iron bars in anger. She shook the gate powerfully, more powerfully than she thought she was capable. 

"Let me out you son of a bitch!" She screeched. 

"No. Starve." He stated through gritted teeth. The arm she could fit between the bars lashed out at this infuriating man, trying to land a hit. However, her anger and emotions blinded her, hindering her reflexes. While his reflexes were as sharp as a tack. A fist connected with a rough palm, fingers closing around it. A look of pure and utter rage spread across Isabella's face, and she attempted to yank her hand back, out of his reach. However his hand only tightened...and tightened. The hand in his fingers was merely an object that he could crush. With a strength that she believed to be inhuman, he began to crush her hand. Her face contorted in pain, no sound coming out of her open mouth. She could feel her bones cracking in his hands. 

"Stop!" She yelled fervently. Her other hand slammed against the bars. After a few more excruciating seconds, he finally let go of her hand. She gasped for air as she pulled her hand close to her chest, falling back against the wall, staring at the man in front of her. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you...you psychotic monster!" She gasped out angrily. He cracked a smile. 

"Many things." He quickly and forcefully grabbed and rattled to bars of her cell, making her flinch. 

"You'll find I'm much worse than a monster." he cooed gruffly, before turning on his heal, and shutting the door to the brig, shrouding the room in darkness. Her breaths were shaky and uneven, and her body shook.

What had she done to herself?


	4. Captain Fuckface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im sorry...this took two months school has been kicking my ass

Bill Cipher was a strong man. He had been a pirate for the majority of his life, and was one of, if not the most feared pirate on the seven seas. Despite his copious amounts of knowledge, he was insensitive towards others. He prided himself on being able to read a room, and being able to manipulate the feelings of others. However he wasn't as adept at empathy as he thought he was. The walk from the brig back to his study felt heavy, although he was blissfully unaware as to why. The girl got on his nerves, it was a reasonable reaction. A heavy sigh passed through his nose, his hand rubbing his neck to alleviate the pain that had begun to fester. He sat down in his chair, closing his eyes and reflecting on the situation at hand. 

He had been cheated out of important information, and that girl had indirectly caused it. 

She was incredibly stubborn, refusing to be submissive, like the girls he knew. 

She is now a prisoner on his ship, probably scared out of her mind. He smirked to himself. 

"And I have to find a place for her." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

"That mother fucking dickhead!" Isabella screamed at the top of her lungs, in attempt to lessen the pain in her hand. It also helped to get her anger out. 

"You can't just go around breaking people's hands Jesus Christ Almighty, that godforsaken asshole!" She yelled, hoping she heard him. He did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ok so, not scared of him. He rolled his eyes as he listened to the string of choice words floating up from the brig. In hopes to distract himself, he turned his attention towards the maps on his desk, only to find someone had scribbled all over it. He looked at the drawn shapes south of the new world. Surely a woman couldn't have done this. Surely she couldn't have done this. Eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Was she going to be more trouble than she was worth? As the insults continued to sound, he decided he needed fresh air. 

He'd been on the sea for as long as he could remember. The smell of saltwater was a welcoming scent, the view of the endless ocean a comforting one. As he stood at the helm of his ship, he watched his crew move about their daily work. However he failed to recognize them as people, but simply things that were working for him. 

"Thomas." He called out. The one called Thomas looked up from the steering wheel and turned around just as Bill clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him jump slightly.

"Aye captain?" He responded. 

"Do you understand women?" Bill asked curiously. This roused a laugh from the scotsman. 

"Oh Cap'n, there ain't a soul alive who truly understands women." he retorted. Bill paused, seeing if the man could offer anymore information.

"Is that so?"

"Oh God yeah. Complicated creatures they are. Some are quiet and meek while others will blow up in yer face." Bill definitely knew which type of women he was dealing with.

"-But in the end, they're exactly like you an' I. Well, not exactly but...ye get the point. Women are confusing creatures, but treat 'em right, and they'll do you good." Thomas finished. 

"I see." Bill spoke softly, out of character for him. Thomas looked at him warily. 

"Cap'n if I may..." he began. Bill wanted to hear what the man had to say, and was too tired to argue, so he nodded his head. 

"I noticed you treated the lass...well...not so nicely..." He treaded carefully, knowing that one wrong move could end him. Bill tensed slightly but showed no visible indications of anger. 

"You did?"

"Aye. I heard the lass from all the way up 'ere. First I heard her screamin. And then I heard her calling you every name under the sun, saying somethin along the lines of 'Ye can't jus' go around breaking people's hands'." Bill only stared at him, with his one good eye, again, not showing any true signs of anger or annoyance. 

"I know yer the Cap'n and all, and you have the right to be mad at 'er...but in me own opinion...ye shouldn't broken her hand over it sir...it wasn't the best idea you've had." Bill huffed at this, because he knew it was true. 

"Get to the point Thomas." He said, his voice clipped.

"All I'm saying, is that if ye want the lass to work with you, try being a bit nicer." Thomas offered gently. He had a kind heart under all that muscle. Bill sighed, because, again, he knew that Thomas was right. 

"Aye Thomas, as you were." He said quietly as he stalked away. As he mulled over what Thomas had said, he realized that he didn't have to be nice to her, just not terrible to her. 

"Surely I'm capable of doing so."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isabella had not moved from her spot in a long time. When she was first put into her iron prison, she punched and kicked the door multiple times in an attempt to get out. Her hands, even the broken one, were now covered in gashes and bruises. She knew her attempts were fruitless, but that did not stop her from beating the ever-loving fuck out of that door. And now she had resigned herself to the corner, thinking about her situation. 

She was in 1690 not 2 hours and she had already injured herself, gotten kidnapped by pirates, and had her hand crushed. It was simply unbelievable. The pain in her hand had dulled to a small ache, throbbing only every once in a while. She channeled the pain she felt into her anger and hate towards the man who put her in this predicament. 

Her vengeful thoughts were interrupted by the door of the brig creaking open. She assumed it was the captain. 

"What, are you here to break my other hand?" her voice clipped. When she got no response, she turned to meet whoever had dared venture into the brig. It was the man from before. Thomas, she thought his name was. A short huff of air passed her lips.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" She said, sarcastically. Thomas gestured to the box in his hands.

"Figured you'd want to wrap up your hand, so it can heal better." He said softly, contrasting from his bravado earlier. Eyebrows shot up as Isabella heard those words. 

"Oh..." 

Her single word hung in the air as he grabbed a key from what seemed to be a nail, right on the other side of the door. The key was right there the whole fucking time?

"Of course it was..." she mumbled. 

"What was that lass?"

"Oh, nothing..." She brushed off his confused stare as he slowly entered the cell. He seemed to be almost...scared. It was quite amusing really, seeing a big strong muscular man afraid of a teenage girl. 

"Jeez big man, I don't bite." She snorted impatiently. Thomas only shook his head and kneeled down to her level. He moved his hands to grab Isabella's, to which elicited a flinch from her. Thomas looked as if he was going to cry...the big softie. 

"Sorry um...may I?" he tried, maybe asking for consent would work. After a moment of brief deliberation, she surrendered her hands to the surprisingly kind pirate. 

"Go ahead." Her voice was clipped and wary, unsure of what to make of the situation. Thomas's large calloused hands took her own with the gentleness of a doe. His hands cradled her injured ones, and his jaw dropped. He must've been aware of the crushed bones, but not the bruises, cuts and scrapes that covered her hands. 

"How did this happen?" 

"I beat the shit out of that door." she said nonchalantly. The pirate's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing, as if he wanted to speak but couldn't find the right words. 

"Yeah it might've been in vain but it sure as hell is a good stress reliever." She chortled as Thomas   
wrapped her hands in wet gauze. 

"You truly are unlike any women I've ever met." He accounted with a shake of his head. 

"Well, I'm one of a kind my friend." she added absentmindedly. He continued his work swiftly and wordlessly. 

"So...did captain fuckface say I could come out of my timeout yet?" she asked softly. Thomas nearly choked on his spit at her words. 

"Um...he didn't mention anything, no." he stammered. Isabella sighed again. It seemed as he was going to be just as difficult as she was planning to be. Well two can play at this game. 

"Damn...well, he'll have to let me out eventually." She mused aloud, hopeful despite the situation at hand. 

"Why was he so concerned about that kid anyway? The information couldn't have been that important...could it?" Thomas's face contorted in an emotion that was unreadable.

"That's not information for me to divulge I'm afraid..." the gentle giant trailed off in thought as he finished wrapping her hands. 

"There...good as new. Just go easy for a while." He stood with a smile, and walked out of the cell, closing the door behind him. 

The air was still and calm for once, since she'd entered this floating hell. Thomas's words struck a cord with her, what information had they - had he - been cheated out of? The human in her ached, and she could feel her heart bleed. He wasn't a good person, but he was still human, with emotions and desires and needs. She hated the guy with every fiber in her being, but couldn't shake the inkling that she wasn't getting the whole story. Her head bounced against the bars from the waves below, lulling her into a light sleep, some form of respite in this bleak situation. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Eavesdropping was probably the least horrible thing he's done in his life. The captain took post just outside the doors to the brig, able to catch the entire conversation between the girl and Thomas.

"So...did captain fuckface say I could come out of my timeout yet?" He heard her say. A scoff escaped his lips at the term of 'endearment'. 

The conversation was short and simple, mentioning touchy subjects, especially for the captain, which he tried to ignore. He watched as Thomas stood from his spot and walk back out of the brig, nearly bumping into the captain. The poor man grasped at his chest in surprise, but the captain brought a single finger to his lips, effectively shushing him. Thomas nodded and walked back up to the deck to resume his duties, worried about what could possibly happen. 

The brig was quieter than he expected, the only light streaming in from the few portholes scattered around the small room. His eyebrows knitted together in thought as he tentatively stepped into the brig, expecting a barrage of insults. Instead, he was greeted by silence. 

"Hm..." his free hand found the lone stool he kept around and placed it in front of the occupied cell, sitting down carefully. Eye gazed into the cell, not meeting opposing ones. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was even. She had to have been asleep.

"Hm...should I be flattered that the captain of this ship has decided to visit me in my lowly prison cell, or scared that he may break my other hand?" a voice suddenly sounded from inside the cell. The captain instantly caught the pair of opening hazel eyes staring back at him, sun reflecting in them. Her face was unreadable, calm in a way. 

"That depends on this next conversation, doesn't it." He chuckled as he spoke. The air was deathly still, the only sounds were the waves below. 

"Of course..." She mused humorlessly. The wood scraped against her back as she sat up, drawing small drops of blood through her thin shirt.

"You know, it's not very polite to wrongfully imprison a lady and injure her in the process." She scoffed. 

"Well, that would only concern me if you were a lady, and you are definitely not a lady." The captain retorted. Isabella sneered in response. 

"Are you going to let me out now or what?"

"Well, if you promise to behave..." 

"Oh bull-fucking shit." She was standing now, her hands gripping the bars until her knuckles went white. The captain's eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"I'm not going to 'behave'. You'll get civil, but you haven't earned it yet. Not even close." She quipped sternly. Bill was slightly taken aback at her sudden boldness, and stood to match her. 

"You don't think I've earned it? Your civility?"

"Not by a long shot..." her voice faded momentarily, "-I mean you broke my fucking hand." Bill's eyes narrowed. 

It was quiet for a few moments, before a sigh came from the girl, her head held in her hands. 

"You don't think I've earned your civility..." he repeated, his voice raising her head. Suddenly, he was standing just inches away, his face pressed to the bars. 

"I don't need to. I am the captain of this ship, and you are my prisoner. You work for me now. I am your law." He spat calmly, walking back out of the cell. Isabella stared incredulously after him. Her eyebrows furrowed in thought, as she wasn't going to stay in the cell any longer.

It was time to break out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont really like how this chapter turned out. This was kind of a filler/expositional chapter anyway. Hope you enjoyed! Please comment and leave kudos, it fuels me!


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